You make my heart beat faster
by YourswithLove
Summary: Pulling on a different persona he deepened his voice to adopt the 'famous athletes are now equivalent to rock stars' tone he'd heard his team mates utilize with fair results and smirked, "Did you need something' Finn and Rachel meet in a gym and find that opposites attract in the best ways. A/U
1. Chapter 1

You make my heart beat faster

Finn grimaced in pain as his treadmill slowed to a stop. The heat radiating through his knee, flaring down his leg and into his muscle was unbearable. He lowered himself to sit on the edge of the piece of equipment and massaged his knee, attempting to alleviate the aching.

"Ahem," the brunette owner of the pert ass that had captured Finn's attention for the past 45 minutes cleared her throat in his direction.

He'd keenly observed her keeping an up – down rhythm at quite a frenetic pace on the elliptical machine located directly in front of his treadmill, enjoying the bounce of her rounded ass as a result of her motion. To say that he'd been fantasizing about creating the same recoiled movement with the force of his palm while she lay across his knees would be entirely correct. It made his dick throb on the same burning level as his knee. He imagined he could hear the thwack of his smack, see the cherry flush handprint on her skin and feel the scratch from her sharp crescent nails digging into his thigh.

Glancing around quickly and seeing the gym floor had cleared out completely he realized her throat clearing vocalization must be meant for him. Turned out, even though New York was always open, not many people chose to spend the early hours working out. Was she going to call him out for his totally ungentlemanly like drooling? Or maybe ask for an autograph? Even better, he grinned wickedly, did she want his number?

Pulling on a different persona he deepened his voice to adopt the '_famous athletes are now equivalent to rock stars_' tone he'd heard his team mates utilize with fair results and smirked, "Did you need something?'

The woman closed the small distance between them. Her face was flushed from the intensity of her workout, highlighting her cheekbones in a rosy blush that wouldn't look half as nice replicated with the use of make up. Her long, wavy hair was swept up into a high ponytail with damp tendrils escaping the loose style as a result of her exertion, and Finn thought that she was prettier than she appeared from further away. Her mouth, perfectly plump to be sucking his cock while he threaded his hands through her unfastened hair was, unfortunately, frowning.

"You need to wipe your machine down," she lectured authoritatively, "It is part of the gym charter to ensure the comfort level of the other patrons."

Rachel was quite bothered by so many cocky, rich, not to mention, completely fuckable guys coming into the gym and expecting to use their charm and adorable faces to flout necessary rules. She'd paid a pretty penny for her membership at this exclusive gym and expected strict adherence to basic hygiene practices. Sweat in a gym was, of course inevitable, but it required cleaning up. Say, if this guy had been sprawled on her bed, his snowy skin against her pastel pink sheets, she would've begged to sample the sweat beading on his forehead, especially since it would have been earned through work of entirely a different and much more pleasurable nature. Rachel's thoughts veered off course as she imagined the taste of all his salty liquids on her tongue and down her throat. But as they _weren't_ magically transported to the seclusion of her home, he needed to follow the guidelines.

"Oh, shit, yeah," Finn stammered stupidly, "I totally forgot my towel."

He wasn't used to this self-sufficiency bullshit yet. At the training center he had someone follow him around with a towel, counting his reps, pushing him harder and keeping track of his times. He supposed that's why he had joined up here though; to escape the watchful eye of the team doctors who were sweating on his rapid recovery. And to get some privacy – except that hadn't really worked. His face was only ever unfamiliar to people he would prefer knew who he was – like this girl.

"You're forgetfulness is not really my problem, is it?" Rachel straightened and splayed her hands on her hips to appear intimidating.

"No, but what do you want me to do about it?"

It was difficult for Finn to restrain a smile at her lame attempts to puff herself up. Her actions had the effect of pushing her perfectly formed breasts forward, her hardening nipples capturing his attention. It was an actual shame, he felt, that this visual representation of his ideal girl was such a harpy, although he kept in mind that she was a rule follower and he definitely liked fucking someone who obeyed him.

"I want you to…' Rachel paused, trying to regain her stranglehold on the conversation. She was supremely irritated that this perfect specimen didn't find her threatening at all. Known on Broadway as a diva of the highest order, Rachel could bring Tony award-winning directors' to their knees with her outrageous demands. But this guy wasn't scared. In fact, she could tell he was smothering a smile. The most annoying element of his challenging behavior was that it totally sexy– her nipples stiffened and chafed against her Lycra top and she was forced to clench her thighs together to stifle the wave of arousal. Instead, it sent the sensation outward and made her want to grind up on this stranger.

"You want me to what?" Finn repeated, because he knew it would piss her off. Her silence had been created to gain some thinking time but she seemed to drift off. He watched as her face flushed even darker, which was strange because she should be cooling off now, not heating up.

"I want you to use _your_ shirt to wipe up _your _perspiration," Rachel grinned triumphantly, "Since it was either your laziness, stupidity or inability to follow the rules that brought us to this impasse."

Rachel was surprised that their confrontation was so much of a turn on. She was desperate to escape to dip her fingers into her arousal when she was alone in the locker room. She'd spread it, teasing her labia but resisting her clit until she couldn't bear it anymore. Bringing her fingers to her mouth, she'd visualize it as this guy being eager to savor her. He would tongue her slick heat, circling her most sensitive spots and stretch her wide with his digits to prepare her to take his huge cock. Coercing him to take off his shirt now would embellish her fantasy and enable her to get herself off quicker later.

"That's fine, princess," Finn complied, giving her a contradictory grin, "Happy to do it."

Finn wasn't sure what her motivations were. He hoped she wasn't sent here as some half-assed prank by his teammates, although that seemed unlikely, given that at this early hour they were probably tucked up tight with their woman, or in Puck's case, women or in Dave's situation, man. If they weren't actually there to witness Finn being humiliated the prank would be considered worthless.

He raised himself up to his full height, enjoying the fact that he towered over her. Tiny girls were his weakness, because he knew he could support her weight while bending her over any surface and fucking her from behind, his hands gripping her hips with his palms spanning across her petite waist. Finn imagined her hourglass silhouette and watching as his cock thrust into her silken pussy while his pressured finger marks stained her skin.

Standing, he endeavored to hide not only his sudden erection but also, the extent of his injury because he hated seeming weak. The multitude of pitying looks thrown his way had been getting tiring and this girl's expectations of him was the first time in almost a month that he was required to actually 'do' something. Incredibly frustrated at the lack of control he had over his life right now Finn lamented torn ligaments and strained muscles. Leading his team on the field had always calmed him, and in time he'd become exceptionally skilled at picking out girls that thrived being told what to do when they were fucked. With regular quarterback duties being replaced with intensive rehab Finn hadn't commanded his teammates on field or had a girl beg for his dick in months. And so, even though he usually liked being the boss, he agreed to do what the girl asked while implying that he was only humoring her.

Rachel's mouth began watering as sweaty, hot guy pulled his shirt over his head. It was difficult to know whether to concentrate on the muscles flexing in his arms or to keep her eyes trained to his hard abs, both being comparable at this point in viewing pleasure to a packed house on opening night. She'd have been quite willing to conduct an inventory on his upper body, preferably using her lips and tongue, especially if he asserted himself.

It was shitty, but guys seemed to think her insistence on performance perfection and inability to accept substandard efforts in her job translated to her having a dominatrix style personality in bed. Quite the opposite was true – Rachel knew she blossomed under skilled instruction. Gruff directives followed by absolute appreciation of her efforts made her shake with tension and caused slickness to dampen her panties. Usually she would scoff at easy compliance to her wishes but she sensed that he was making fun of her demands, like he was toying with her like prey and could easily wrest back control of the situation.

She stared at his back as he wiped the machine with his shirt, in awe at his wide shoulders. Rachel's fingers itched to trace the ridges of his shoulder blades and learn the pattern of his ribs and how they met his spine, and she wished she could study her way around his torso to his sternum. She knew his skin would be scorching and the sensation in her fingertips would be captured in her memory.

"Is your interest in my physique personal or professional?" Finn quipped, directing his smirking question over his shoulder meeting Rachel's gaze before she lowered her eyes, in an attempt to hide her obvious interest.

"I'm wondering how your scrawny shoulders hold up such a big head," replied Rachel nonchalantly, hopeful her rapier wit would deflect his commentary about her ogling.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Finn shot back confidently. He was pretty sure the girl was just embarrassed that she'd been caught out. He wasn't school smart but had learned a lot about body language while reviewing opposition players defense and he'd testify to the fact that she wanted him. Frankly, he was disappointed. He'd have loved to hear her moans as he fucked her, holding back until she pleaded for him. He pictured capturing her wrists above head, making her squirm in pleasure as she came hard on his tongue, then kissing her and letting her taste herself. But he refused to make her see something she was intent on being blind to.

Rachel turned back towards the elliptical machine but wasn't sure she would be able to sleep and wondered whether she should continue to force out her renewed energy. Her body was thrumming, vibrating on a different level and she was sure she needed to be fucked to sleep. Wishing she wasn't so prideful she turned on her heel ready to wash away her desire in the change room showers. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as the guy tucked his sweaty shirt into the waistband of his shorts and bend down to pick up his water bottle, silently grimacing in pain.

Knowing he was going to fall before his knee actually gave way Finn prepared to accept the pain as he'd hit the floor, but was surprised when the girl wedged herself between his body and the ground acting as a brace. Her tiny body supported his, which should have been physically impossible but her strength proved to be obstinate.

"I've got you," she panted, "You can lean on me."

Strangely enough, when she said this, Finn got the distinct impression that it was completely true. That he could _lean on her_ and that she _did have him._ And he didn't feel like it was meant physically because even if she was acting out of adrenaline like those mothers that lifted cars off their babies in extreme distress he'd eventually crush her under his weight. Rather, for a second he felt it emotionally. He'd imagined the intimacy of familiar lovers, his arm holding her close with her leg draped across his, laughing about his springy leg hair against her smooth skin while he wound her hair around his fingers, pulling it down and letting it bounce back up in a curl that his twisting created. Quickly shrugging it off, embarrassed by his rapid descent into schmaltz, he set his face to passive.

Rachel watched several emotions shade his face, not being able to read any specifically, coming to the conclusion that he was worried about her collapsing beneath him. Which was entirely probable.

"Do you want me to get the girl on the front desk to help?" Rachel offered, knowing that the tall, blonde girl had the rangy strength to support him better.

"Fuck, no!" exclaimed Finn, panicked. Front desk girl looked like a personal trainer but she was a gold digger. He saw the way she bookmarked Vogue Brides, with colored post-its. And Quinn, at least that's what he thought her name was since she'd joked that their names rhyme and implied destiny of some sort, had offered her body up within one minute of them meeting. So, she was a groupie gold digger. And asking for her help would like sending her an invitation to a party he didn't want to have.

"Just trying to help," Rachel muttered sullenly.

"I just need you," he whispered, and she stopped breathing for a moment. It was untenable that he'd ever mean it in a way she wanted him to, but the words coming out of his mouth were barely spoken and they made her shudder.

Rachel realized during their verbal exchange he'd maneuvered their bodies to regain his balance, positioning them both so he wasn't relying on her as much while still managing to use her like a prop. His hand was resting against her waist with his arm brushing the length of her body so she copied him, coiling her arm around him with her fist brushing on the sharpness of his hipbone. In the wall to ceiling mirrors it appeared as though they were arm in arm and Rachel couldn't stop admiring how their contrasting colors and shape complemented each other.

"We look fucking awesome together, right?"

Finn had been admiring them in the mirror too. Their bodies would definitely take on a jigsaw like quality when joined and honestly that was how he preferred it. Too tall and they'd clash. He was big and strong and he liked that he could use that to get creative with a girl. He didn't want conventional and their differences ruled that out straight away. She was perfect.

"You don't think we look ridiculous?"

Rachel didn't think they did, but she wondered how he didn't. She'd seen the way the girl on the front desk had fawned over him before swiping his membership card, content with keeping Rachel waiting. He obviously had his pick of women, and his slight injury would draw in all manner of nursemaids.

Finn was sick of his knee. He was sick of having all the decisions made for him. He was sick of himself and saw a way through.

"I think," he said thickly, "I want to see how well your tits fit into my palms. I want to feel how hard your pussy clenches my cock when I make you come and I want to watch how far you can take me down your throat. That's what I think when I look at us like this."

Finn felt the girl press her fist hard into his hip, but he was buoyed by the fact that she hadn't shoved him away. He tilted her chin, which was pointed down, to look upward into the mirror and was pleased with how she maintained eye contact.

"So, princess. Now tell me what you really think."

* * *

A/N I needed to write something to get back in the swing of things. Not sure whether anyone would want to read another chapter of the 'clinch' or whether it should stay like this? New updates for all of my stories really soon. Sorry about the wait - life is like that.


	2. Chapter 2

"You make my head fog, so its impossible to think!" Rachel exclaimed, gasping at the way her confession bounced off the mirrors and echoed loudly around the empty gym. The way in which he spoke about her body left her aching for his touch and desperate to reciprocate.

She tore her eyes from his, fearing she would drown in his intense gaze and disentangled herself from sexy guy's bulky frame because she thought if they separated she might be able to breathe, and clear her head.

But her traitorous imagination visualized his best idea, one of his huge hands wrapped tightly around her ponytail, while the other lay on her cheek. He'd feed his thick cock down her throat, his hand on the back of her head dictating the pace and after swallowing his delicious length her efforts would be rewarded with a grunt of approval and his taste on her tongue.

Her face flushed furiously, the distance between them fueling her fantasy instead of dousing her need. She felt his finger and thumb encircle her wrist in a seemingly gentle but possessive grip that reignited the heat between her thighs. Apparently he was not interested in giving her space.

"I make your head fog," he smirked and added, even though she knew he was assured of the answer, "And your pulse race?"

Rachel nodded mutely.

There would have been no benefit from arguing the point because he'd let his thumb begin leisurely brushing her pulse point sending sparks of sensation down her arm. His movements caused the blood to rush through her veins, the pounding even more obvious.

"Princess," Finn murmured, "That's the way it's supposed to be."

Finn could tell this girl, his ideal girl had never been fucked properly. Or thoroughly, which made him both equally pissed and relieved, with his caveman tendencies kicking in, confusingly, way too quick.

His hand slid into hers, their intertwined fingers finding a natural but strange clasp, with his size overwhelming hers. Finn intended to drag her body to his, but as he pulled the girl gave and her smooth transition seemed like dancing, which was freaking amazing because he'd never had such synchronicity with anyone. Even Puck, and he was his running back. His right hand man on field, and his fucking, frankly useless wingman off field.

This new position was awesome because now their bodies were flush, his girl's breasts were crushed against his bare chest and he could feel her nipples grazing him, hard and tight through the stretchy Lycra. Exhaling, her little pants of breath were cooling against his overheated skin and her other hand acted as a steadying brace, fingertips, light as a feather trailing over his abs.

"Your panties _should_ be soaked." Finn trailed the fingers of his free hand down her spine, wishing she were lying prone on his bed so his tongue could replace his fingertips and he could suck on her skin, her sweat, her musk.

"Your pussy _should_ be swollen." He'd tie her hands to his headboard and languidly stroke his way down her shoulders, explore the dimples at her lower back and learn the texture of her pink pussy lips, with his fingers, then mouth, then tongue. He vividly pictured raising her hips, so that she was on her hands and knees and he'd bury his face in her from behind, enjoying her impatient writhing, licking and sucking at her until she was boneless.

"If you want me to fuck you, then that's all you should be able to think about." He ran the palm of his hand over her round ass, burning to pull back and let fly, longing to hear the reverberation. Instead he cupped her curves and ground their bodies together, so she could feel how hard she made him.

"So, do you want me to fuck you, princess?"

Rachel had almost laughed when the sexy hulk had twirled her like a dancer. She was a performer but dancing wasn't an especially strongpoint and he'd done a better job at directing her feet than any of her scene partners. Obviously, she realized they had been the problem, not her.

His huge, calloused hand dwarfed hers. The sweet hand holding gesture belied the filthy things he said and it made her shiver, thinking how aroused he could make her in public, his breath in her ear, while she smiled serenely, attempting to hide her real desire, until they could find a private corner where she'd fuck his fingers to orgasm and spend the rest of the night smelling herself on his hand. She wanted that.

Being pressed tight against him erased any thought of refusal, with his sweat and cologne mixing, creating a heady scent. As if his words and body hadn't been enough, now his smell was intoxicating. Rachel listened to him describe how this was how it was supposed to be and tried not to float away. How many guys had she fucked out of third date obligation? How hard was it for a stupid guy to realize that she wanted him to take control without making it into some kind of big deal? Tall guy here hadn't even told her she was sexy, or that he wanted her but she knew.

Rendering her speechless was an indescribable feat for anyone but this guy wouldn't even realize his power, Rachel thought, and then wondered how she could possibly convey her acquiescence. That she most definitely wanted him to fuck her. Preferably soon.

Glancing up into his eyes, she nervously bit, then ran her tongue along the fullness of her bottom lip. Standing on her tiptoes pressing forward she placed a soft, open mouthed kiss on the hollow created by the base of his neck and collarbone, then drew back and held his gaze once more. Anxiety bubbled inside of her because she wondered how he would interpret her actions. Even more exhilarating was imagining how he'd respond.

Having screwed his share of girls, Finn recognized true coquettish behavior. Her pure lip bite and tender kiss had his dick throbbing. So what if she couldn't actually vocalize her intent yet, he thought and then grinned wryly. He bet himself he could have her pleading for release – loudly, as well as breaking some of the rules she'd been so pushy about before.

"Put your arms around my neck," he instructed her and he was pleased with how quickly she complied with his request. Feeling an acute sense of loss when she dropped his hand, he recovered instantaneously when she immediately fastened her hands at the back of his neck. Both of his hands roamed her rounded ass to the back of her toned thighs and instinctively she raised herself up as he hitched her to him, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"Your knee!" Rachel remembered, and he frowned, despite being touched at her concern.

"Shouldn't run on it," Finn grumbled, "But I can lift you. You're fucking tiny."

Backing them up against the mirror, he pinned her to the frosty glass with his hips. Groaning, at the contact, her cotton clad pussy ground into his rock hard cock as he began thrusting rhythmically.

Her hands were in his hair and he couldn't wait anymore. Their mouths molded together and his tongue searched the hot cavern tasting the sugary sweetness of the Gatorade she'd been sipping during her earlier workout. His teeth tugged on her bottom lip, imitating her own actions from before, swallowing her moans, as they were simulcast with his thrusts.

Gently sucking his way down her neck, he captured her wrists in one of his hands and lifted them above her head, dragging his lips along her collarbone, down the neckline of her top. He wanted her delicious tits in his mouth and the tight material hindering his mission frustrated the shit out of him. He brushed his thumb over her tight nipple, reveling in her desperate whimpers. Pinching it between his thumb and forefinger, he imagined the color and shape of her perky nipple hiding under her clothes.

"More, please," she whispered trembling, and Finn drank in her words.

Princess was going to explode from their friction.

Shivering from contact with the icy mirror, Rachel couldn't believe she was on the verge of an orgasm. She loved how he commanded her body, knowing exactly what she liked, what she needed. His hands, mouth and thick cock coordinated to bring dormant feelings to the surface. His hard dick was insistent, driving into her pussy, hitting her clit and repeating and Rachel found herself needing it harder and faster, whining at the withdrawal. Tension built, winding her tighter, spreading to all of her nerve endings.

"Come, princess," he muttered, "Let go."

He grinded their lower halves together forcefully, whispering, "I want you to come. I'm going to lap up all those juices your body makes for me and kiss you. Have you ever tasted yourself, baby? I need my dick to explode inside you, watch it drip down your legs, reminding you of how hard I made you come."

Their mouths devouring one another, Rachel shuddered, her pussy spasming against his hardness, clenching, while relief flooded her body, setting the whole of her alight. "That was.." she started.

"Not done," he replied tersely, melding their mouths back together, toting her over to a weight bench, sitting down with her straddling his still hard cock.

Finn had wanted to get off until he watched her dissolve. Now all he could think about was getting a replay. He had to admit part of him would rather watch his princess come apart on the Jumbotron, than his teammates score a touchdown and it hoped that it was just a fleeting notion, because, really.

He snuck his hand underneath her shorts, finding and stroking silky skin. She spread her legs wider, giving him access to her damp panties and demonstrating some impressive balance.

"I'm going to fuck you with my fingers, princess," Finn told her, "I want you to come again."

Rachel, drunk on the languid caresses he was applying to her thigh, jumped as his fingers found the edge of her panties and slipped under. She could hardly believe he'd managed to dry fuck her to oblivion, like she was sixteen and in the backseat of a car, before he'd told her he wanted more.

He pressed the palm of his hand against her pubic bone, his thumb flicking and massaging her clit, as he dipped his fingers inside her, drawing out the juice to spread over her pussy lips. Two fingers slipped inside her slickness, deliberately keeping a leisurely thrusting pace.

"I wonder if you taste sweet, like your mouth," Finn grinned cheekily, "Or tangy, like your sweat. Should I find out?"

"No, please, don't stop," Rachel groaned, her core tingling and throbbing from his ministrations. She dug her nails into his back, clinging onto him, riding his fingers. Her inner walls clenched his fingers, drawing them deeper.

"God, I need to feel your hot pussy stretched around me," he murmured, ensuring his fingers kept up the steady cadence, "Your pussy is gripping me so tight, princess. Imagine my cock is plunging inside you, filling you up. After you come over my cock, I'm going to blow so hard."

Rachel closed her eyes and tipped her head back. She felt his lips on her neck sucking and came even harder, clamping around his fingers. He drew out her orgasm, dragging the sweetness over her thigh and into his mouth. Watching him taste her, added to the eroticism of the moment, and then he kissed her, sharing her flavor.

"Look at me," he directed her and she felt him dip his fingers back into her wetness and slide them along her lip, "You're fucking delicious."

Rachel's tongue crept out of her mouth for another taste and she smiled, "Thank you."

She felt the atmosphere in the room change, a breeze.

"Oh, my," Rachel heard the desk girls voice intrude on her moment and froze. "I always knew NFL players were into some kinky shit, but I didn't think the same would apply for Broadway performers."

Jumping up, Rachel grabbed her bag and sprinted for the door. Her best sexual encounter, with an unknown and unidentified man, Rachel reminded herself, was now set to potentially become the most embarrassing moment in her entire life.

"God, I hope you wipe that bench down," Quinn remarked nastily, slighted at Finn's refusal of her.

"I forgot my towel."

Finn's comment was the last thing Rachel heard before she fled. It was time to start researching a new gym.

* * *

A/N Part 3? (If this doesn't suck too hard?)

And of course, I don't Glee. The characters. Or anything.


	3. Chapter 3

"Look," Finn laid his palms face down on the gym reception desk, his hands clenching in frustration, "I'm going to need the Princess's home address."

He'd chased her, limping, onto the street, just in time to see her clamber in the back of a taxi and watch the withdrawing brake lights as it turned a corner. He completely understood why she'd run, but he never considered letting her flee into the night. Usually, he'd leave it. After all, there was plenty more pussy in the sea or something like that, but _this girl_. She'd made his dick hard and his heart beat faster.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hudson, I'm sure you understand that it is against our policy to share our clients private details," the blonde receptionist stated, before adding in a decidedly less professional voice, "Even skanky ass bitches who fuck strangers in a gym."

Narrowing his eyes at her judgment, Finn scowled. "Hey! Don't be smug. Don't pretend that your lame ass job here isn't just a glorified sugar daddy search. Just give me her name and address."

"If you stalk her, or hurt her, then the gym will be culpable," Quinn whined, "And I'd get fired."

"Fuck!" Finn exclaimed, slamming his hand down on the desk, making Quinn jump, "I need to see if she is okay." _I also need to bury my cock in her tight pussy,_ he thought. Her flavor lingered in his mouth and her scent coated his fingers, his dick throbbing in anticipation of seeing her again. He was desperate to fuck her in her own space - to turn her whimpers into cries of pleasure, as he buried his cock to the hilt, and fucked her hard and fast. He wanted to watch her let go and come apart in his hands.

"And lets be realistic," Finn crowed, inwardly cringing at boasting with such bravado, usually only reserved to cut Starbucks lines when he was running extremely late, "We both know I get what I want. You're hesitation is a waste of my time."

The girl sighed heavily, as if his reasonable (and possibly illegal) request was an effort, copying the details down on one of her colorful post-it notes in slanted handwriting with Finn intently observing. "Why her?" she asked, reluctantly handing the note over, without relinquishing it fully until he answered her.

"Because she's already mine."

Turning his back on the girl he'd already forgotten, he left and hailed a cab. _Rachel Berry, _he repeatedly recited her name in his head until it became as familiar as her lush body_, she's mine. _

_How many Broadway stars have been embroiled in a sex scandal?_ Rachel speculated that the answer was probably none, as she restlessly paced her apartment. Although being caught in a compromising position was an unfamiliar variety of humiliation, after serious introspection she couldn't summon any kind of remorse about the encounter. Rachel knew the stars didn't often align to marry circumstances with chemistry.

Her agitation was sexy football guy related though, because, in her attempts to shrug off the extraordinary events of the night as nonchalant she'd scoured his touch from her body, washing away the dampness he'd drawn out between her thighs, rinsing his taste from her mouth. The absence _of him_ was sensed immediately and she felt desperate, itching for it all back. The pinkish tinge to her scrubbed skin, her tank worn as pajamas, and her fresh panties were reminders that he had probably replaced her already, when she realized she wasn't ready to let it go.

She regretted not taking his scent to her sheets, where it would've been welcome to embroider into the fabric and infuse her dreams, just for a little while longer. _Why did my logic have to be so poker-faced, and my decision so hasty, _she wondered, angry with herself for her well-known aversion to be self-aware when it mattered_. _

Her entry hall phone buzzed and she was startled out of her disappointment filled retrospect. Its shriek, at such an early hour filled her with anxiety, because she knew it could only be the police arresting her for lewd behavior which seemed unlikely, or her football guy. She contemplated ignoring it, but instinct overrode sense and she picked up.

"_Ms. Berry, you have a guest. Can I send him up?" _

"I'm not sure," whispered Rachel, literally with a million questions jostling for front position in her head, "What do you think I should do?" she asked, possibly confusing her genial doorman, who'd only ever seen her with an assertive attitude bordering on bossiness, and with whom she'd never shared anything but a polite smile.

"_Ms. Berry, your guest is Finn Hudson, quarterback for the Jets."_ This information was given as a statement, as if she were behaving ridiculously. _Rachel and Finn_, she thought, turning his unfamiliar name over in her head, _Finn and Rachel_.

"I'll be down in a minute," she answered, hesitantly.

"_Uh, Ms. Berry, Mr. Hudson said, 'Don't you dare' and to stay exactly where you are and that he is coming up, but that he forgot his key, so you'll have to let him in."_

Rachel, who'd never even suffered severely with opening night nerves, felt her stomach swoop. Her heartbeat rhythm felt skittish, sending the blood rushing through her veins and she swore she could feel it spreading through, individually oxygenating her cells. Limbs heavy with fatigue, or lust, she wasn't sure, Rachel leaned against the door, jittery, anticipating the shadow on the other side of her door, when his bulk would block the slither of light emitted from the hallway.

Relieved that Rachel's doorman was a football fan, Finn utilized his avid interest to, technically, lie and tell him he forgot his key. He knew he was insinuating a relationship that didn't exist, but he also didn't care. He wouldn't stay if she didn't want him, but knew someone like Rachel, would get carried away by rationality, if he wasn't close enough to touch her.

Knocking on her door, he inhaled deeply. He wanted her so much that he had the balls to admit that a refusal would affect him deeply. More so, he knew what a waste it would be – together they could be a fucking force.

The door swung back and she stood in the doorway of the dimly lit apartment, his eyes drawn to her lithe form. Her hair spilled around her bare shoulders, the low neckline of the black tank emphasizing her high, perky tits, her nipples hard under the cotton. His fingers burned to relax her tightly muscled calves and trace up to the smooth, bare skin of her thighs, slipping his fingers along the lace hem of her panties, only to retreat and brush his knuckles against the fabric, teasingly. She had the hottest legs he'd ever seen, and he imagined her on her back, angling her hips and ass upwards, her ankles crossed, with him on his knees driving his cock deep, while her knuckles gripped the headboard of his bed.

Finn stepped slightly forward and fingered the strands of silky hair framing her face. He laid his palm against her cheek, cupping her jaw, his thumb and forefinger tickling her earlobe, fingertips on her neck, thumb sliding along her bottom lip, eliciting a tremor.

"Princess," he said, "Rachel, can I come in?" He asked her the question on the threshold, his voice husky from need and expectation, knowing that she understood that his words clearly indicated an undertone. If he went inside, he wouldn't be leaving.

Rachel's brain had the tendency to turn to mush when he was near. His change of clothes, a different t-shirt and jeans, and boots, emphasized their height difference since she was barefoot and barely dressed. His tender actions blazed a trail of heat where he came in contact with her skin and coupled with his restraint made her knees weak. When his thumb feathered her lip, her tongue involuntarily tasted.

She stepped back, inviting him in with an imperceptible nod, attempting to convey that her eagerness conflicted with a sense of uncertainty. Finn moved inside and closed he door behind him, shutting out the light so that the apartment was only lit up by the city. Loving the way the shadows played across Finn's jaw, she welcomed the contrast of his masculinity in her pastel world.

"Are you scared of me, or scared of this?" he asked. His hand swept the sharpness of her collarbone, threading through her thick hair to tip her head back and gain his lips access to her neck. He bent low to place open mouth kisses behind her ear, shifting downwards, his wet lips cooling her feverish skin, his hands capturing her forearms behind her back to keep her still.

"Both," she moaned into his mouth, as it fused with hers. His frenzied kiss elicited an honest response. Rachel, too keyed up to lie or pretend, felt the truth tumble from her mouth. She was aghast at the vulnerable emotions he aroused in her, but satisfied with how dedicated he seemed to be to slake her want.

"Why both?" he asked, grasping her waist, lifting and bracing her against the door with his forearm, her legs fastening around his hips, the rough denim driving his cock into her pussy, compelling her to grind against him to increase the pleasurable friction. His lips found the sensitive skin of her neck again, sucking hard on the pulse point, keen to leave a mark.

"These things don't happen to me," she rasped, her hands sliding under his shirt, frantic for contact with his heated skin, skimming the smooth contours of his back and his shoulder blades, his muscles flexing and contracting beneath her caress.

"Only because we hadn't met yet," he groaned, implying their bond was a new experience for him too, trying to persuade her by overwhelming her body with his mouth and hands, making her surrender space, both physical and imagined between them. _He couldn't fuck her yet_, he told himself, needing to satisfy her, to keep her craving his cock until she was tethered to him.

Finn, annoyed with the limited range of movement while she was static against her door, carried her over to an overstuffed couch, his palms massaging her curved ass as he walked, his fingers slipping against the fabric, grazing her pussy. Intent on slowing down and taking charge of their encounter, he let her slide down his body, but kept her snug against him. His hands made quick work of her tank top, gripping the hem and smoothing it up her raised arms, his movements owning each inch of skin, eager to bare her tits to the cool air.

Discarding her shirt, he fell backward, reclining on the couch, tugging her down on top of him. With her straddling his thighs, he rocked their lower bodies together, eyes feasting on her luscious tits, his avid mouth ravenous.

"You're tits are fucking mouthwatering, Princess," Finn told her.

Deliberately, he avoided them, his hands spanning her tiny waist, tilting her backwards on his lap to explore the valley between the perfect flesh skating his tongue along her curves, his eyes cataloguing her pebbled nipples rising from the dusky pink skin. Her hands pulled at his hair, attempting to direct his mouth where she wanted, but he wound her tighter, wanting her to be as taut as a wire before he yielded to her need. Kneading her breast, plumping it in his hand, he eventually gave in to her rhythmic, incoherent pleas, latching his mouth around her nipple, suctioning it, nipping gently with his teeth. Her moans became cries and her knees drove into his hips, squeezing the breath out of him.

Rachel was coiled, desperate to come but Finn set her on her feet in front of him, appraising her body, making her wait.

"I want to lick you," his voice was dense with hunger, "But I want you soaked. Your pussy needs to glisten with sweetness before I put my mouth on you. Show me how to touch you, baby, make yourself wet."

Squirming with arousal, Rachel felt unusually empowered by his request. She slid her panties down over her hips and they pooled at her feet, as she watched Finn drag his fist against his hard erection, seeking relief. His intense gaze seem to sear her skin, leaning slightly forward in anticipation as she separated her labia and used two fingers to circle her throbbing clit, gathering and spreading the moisture as he'd instructed.

"Baby, you're dripping," Finn moaned, "Do you taste as good as you smell? Do you want my fingers inside you, my hard cock fucking your pretty pussy? Come here baby."

Finn grabbed her ass, pulling her toward him, heady from breathing in the scent of her arousal. He lay back on the couch, hauling her until she was sitting on his face, balancing herself by clasping the back of the couch. Finn's tongue speared inside her, as he lapped and nibbled at her lower lips, sucking hard on her clit, forcing her to grind down on him. Pushing two fingers inside her he pressed them against her front wall, rubbing the hidden spot, rhythmically thrusting as she rode his face.

Making use of many years of ballet instruction, Rachel twisted her body around, craving his cock. She popped open his button fly, taking advantage of his distractedness to free his erection from its denim confines. She circled her fingers around the base of his cock, dragging her lips and tongue along the length of his shaft, feeling him groan against her. Rachel closed her mouth over the head of his dick, sampling the delicious bead of moisture there, the earthy flavor, her new favorite treat. Running her tongue on the underside and down the pulsing vein, his hips jerked, urgently and she gulped him down greedily, his cock hitting the back of her throat. She orchestrated her movements, so her hands, twisting, coordinated, contracted around him with each swallow.

"Rachel, I'm going to come down your throat, baby," Finn moaned, his voice guttural, warning her, but it just spurred her on, imagining his hand was on the back of her head, forcing his dick down further, making her gag. "Come all over my face, Princess. I want you to explode on my tongue, your juices just for me, baby. I'm going to lap it all up."

Rachel shuddered, his words driving her higher and she cried out in bliss, drawing his fingers inside her with each contraction, spilling wetness onto his tongue and cheeks. Finn's orgasm burst forth, and she devoured it, wishing she was on her knees, his hand caressing her jaw, stroking his hardness beneath her skin, watching him disappear in and out of her lips. She collapsed boneless, as Finn hoisted her up, turning her body, his embrace supporting her satiated form.

"This is serious between you and I," Finn told her, his simple explanation being all Rachel needed, his ability to switch between tenderness and unadulterated sex thrilling her. Tangling his fingers in her, his hands swept down her back, her ass, her arms, covering her skin with his languorous strokes, and she sleepily drifted off, encased in his warmth.

* * *

A/N Definitely too cheesy, but some kind of feelings needed to be established. Hope you liked it.

Also, I own nothing in regards to glee, except regret tinged with sadness.


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